


This Witcher has One (1) Fear

by addib



Series: Witcher Short Fics [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Can be read as gen, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, geralt being a worrywart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addib/pseuds/addib
Summary: Jaskier and Geralt finally have a conversation post-mountain. And Jaskier gets stabbed. Not in that order, because neither of them knows how to effectively communicate.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher Short Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735147
Comments: 1
Kudos: 108





	This Witcher has One (1) Fear

Jaskier was tired. There was no arguing it was anything else other than tired. He was tired of being pushed to the side. Everyone’s second choice. The yelling and fighting that came with that.

He knew his worth, he knew that he had some important thing that destiny had plotted out for him when he was born. He knew, ok. But that didn’t make the scathing remarks Geralt had said on that mountain any easier to bear.

And then Geralt had trailed after him down the mountain all the way into a tiny tavern not far from its base. He had silently settled himself into the darkest, furthest back corner and had watched Jaskier like everything was perfectly normal.

They carried on like that for weeks. Jaskier knew not to push now. He knew not too ask about Yennefer or Geralt’s child surprise. He knew not to complain.

They were on some dusty back road when a group of idiots masquerading themselves as bandits decided to try and rob them. The band of merry men obviously hadn’t noticed the two very scary looking swords that accompanied any smart Witcher.

Jaskier had been grabbed and Geralt had fought. Business as usual when it came to being hassled by common thugs. Until Jaskier decided to pull a knife on the bandit holding him. Which earned him a stab wound. The bandit at least suffered little after as Geralt disconnected his head from his body.

“Jaskier.”

That was it. All Geralt had to say was his name, filled to the brim with what seemed complete disappointment as he dragged the bard off the main road. Roach followed docilely behind.

“What were you thinking,” Geralt started to address the wound in Jaskier's chest. “You are no warrior. You should leave the fighting to me instead of getting yourself into more trouble.”

“I wonder,” Jaskier didn’t want to look into golden eyes. No now. “If you even like me.”

Geralt didn’t pause exactly, but Jaskier felt the breath of a pause at his words.

“Because it sure seems like you hate me most of the time.”

Geralt didn’t respond. Not with words at least. And Jaskier dropped the conversation as he felt Geralt bandage him up and help slip his abandoned and bloody doublet back on.

It wasn’t until after the sun had well and truly set, Geralt having set up camp and managed dinner, that Jaskier even though about it again. He was trying to work out some melody in his head about the last big hunt Geralt had gone on while the Witcher sat across the fire treating his swords. His lack of attention on Geralt had him almost miss the quiet words leaving him.

“I could never hate you Jaskier.” He really wanted to interrupt the Witcher but it appeared the man wasn’t done speaking as he pulled in a deep breath before releasing a sigh.

“You are too real, too human, too breakable. I don’t hate you Jaskier. I fear you.”

“Fear me? Geralt I’m a bard, the exact opposite of anything remotely frightening,” Jaskier said looking at his friend in confusion.

“I fear the day you will leave me without my say. I don’t want you to go by an enemy’s blade or a monster’s claw,” Geralt wasn’t looking at him but he could see the Witcher’s oh so stoic face was cracking just a bit at the edges.

“You want me to leave you in a painless way,” he was curious now.

“I want you to leave me when you are ready. But you run headfirst into fights that you aren’t made for Jaskier,” Geralt glanced up at him across the flickering flames. “I don’t find joy in the fact that you will grey and die, but it is a much better fate than what awaits you if you stay at my side.”

Ridiculous Witcher. He knew what he was capable of and he hadn’t managed to get killed so far.

“We will find a way then. You can teach me to fight at least.”

Geralt’s answering snort was answer enough on his opinion on the matter of Jaskier learning to actually wield a blade.

“Fine. Alright, the idea of me becoming a master swordsman is out but we _will_ find a way. _I_ will find a way to ease your mind,” Jaskier finally settled down into his bedroll. “Until then. Sleep my silly Witcher.”

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy.
> 
> This was written at an unholy hour of the night so I make no promises and I hope y'all enjoy it.
> 
> Toss a kudos and a comment to a creator. Seriously, it's like Pavlov's dog when we get emails on notifications.


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